Unforgettable (Cloverleigh Farms #5)(81)

“Yes,” I said. “It was worth the risk.”





I walked out of Prisha’s office feeling a little better. She always asked the tough questions and could sometimes make harsh observations when I was trying to avoid something, but she gave beautiful compliments too. She strengthened my courage, my confidence, and my compassion.

And in the next five minutes, I’d need all three.

Because when I pulled up at home, sitting there on my front porch was none other than Tyler Shaw.

I knew it was him right away. Besides the ridiculously tall and commanding body, who else put those butterflies in my belly? Made my breath get stuck in my lungs? Set my pulse on high alert? He watched me put the car in park and came to open the driver’s side door.

My heart was hammering away, and I was almost afraid to stand up for fear my legs would buckle. But then I remembered what Prisha had said. I could do this.

I got out of the car and looked up at him. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses for once. Or a hat. I could see his eyes and his expression clearly, and he looked . . . happy?

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

He pushed the car door shut behind me. “Can I come in?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Please, April.” He went to take my hand, but I pulled it away. “Sorry. I get it—I won’t touch you, I promise. I just want to talk.”

“About what?” I said. “You made your point ten days ago. I heard it loud and clear when you walked out the door.”

He nodded. “I know. But I think I was wrong.”

My eyebrows jerked up. “You think?” Immediately I started walking toward my front door.

“April, wait!” He ran ahead of me, hopping up onto my porch and spreading his arms out, like I wasn’t allowed on it. “I’m sorry. You were always better than me at putting my thoughts into words. And I’m still working things out in my head. But I—I have something I need to say to you.” He frowned. “I just don’t know exactly what it is yet.”

I stayed where I was, two steps below him. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

I shifted my weight to one hip, wishing I didn’t find his frown so adorable. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”

He looked relieved. “Thanks.”

“So what are you trying to work out?”

“Well, it starts with Virgil. He’s in the hospital.”

“Oh, no! Is he okay?”

“Yes and no. He’s got congestive heart failure, and they’re worried about a stroke, but he was able to have a conversation with me—sort of.”

“Is that why you’re back in town?”

He hesitated. “Also yes and no. It’s the reason my head told me to get on a plane, but I think there were other reasons too. Reasons I wasn’t ready to admit.”

Gooseflesh swept across my back, but I held my tongue. I wasn’t going to put words in his mouth tonight. He was on his own.

“Aren’t you going to ask what the other reasons are?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Okay. Shit.” He ran a hand through his hair. “This is hard. Words are hard.”

“Yep.”

“The other reasons are about you. And kind of about Sadie and maybe even about my dad and David and possibly the Central High School baseball team—”

“Okay, focus.” I held up one hand. I couldn’t help it. “What do all those people mean? What do they have in common?”

He came down the steps and took me by the shoulders. “They’re family to me. They feel like family.” His hands slid into my hair. “You feel like family to me.”

Oh, how I loved his words. They were like hot chocolate sauce over vanilla ice cream, and they melted something inside me. But I had to be tough. “So what? So you’ve realized family is more than blood. What now?”

He frowned again, taking his hands off me. “Okay, give me a second. Maybe it’s not just that I’ve realized you feel like family. Because Sadie has always been family, and I’ve lived apart from her since I was eighteen. It’s something more.”

My pulse kicked up. I bit my lip.

He struggled with what he wanted to say for a full fifteen seconds, so long that I was tempted to prompt him with words. Had he missed me? Was that it?

“It’s home,” he blurted.

“Home?”

“Yes.” He looked relieved to have found the right words. “That night at dinner, you said this thing, and I guess it must have stayed in the back of my mind. You said home wasn’t a place.”

“I did?” I tilted my head. “I don’t remember that.”

“Well, maybe you didn’t say it wasn’t a place. But you said something about it being the feeling that you know you belong somewhere. You miss it when you’re gone. You’re the most you at home.”

“Okay . . .”

He took me by the shoulders again. “Sorry, I’m bad at the no-touching thing. But that’s what it is. When I’m with you, I know where I belong. I never want to be anywhere else. I miss you when you’re not there. I’m the most me when I’m with you—because you’re the only one who sees the real me.” He took a breath. “Wherever you are is home to me. And I don’t want to leave home again.”